


Princess Claire

by PopBudgie (DorkyBudgie), Popfrost



Category: Sister Claire (Webcomic)
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/F, Gen, Multi, Sister Claire - Freeform, Thronum Mare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 15:18:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18527713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorkyBudgie/pseuds/PopBudgie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popfrost/pseuds/Popfrost
Summary: AU of Sister Claire where Eden and Thronum Mare never fall, and everyone is happy. Based on art by http://androidsnot.tumblr.com/





	Princess Claire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not-so-humble beginning

Chapter 1

**Snapshot 1: When it rains it pours, i guess**

“Oscar, sweetheart…”  
Oscar was sitting in the garden, working on paperwork, when Catherine decided to pay her a visit. “Mmm. What is it, Love?” She responded in a sleepy-bored sort of tone. Catherine sat down next to her and bit her lip. Her wife scrunched her forehead up and put her quill down, paying full attention to Catherine. ‘Something’s wrong,’ she thought. ‘Something must be wrong.’ Catherine’s head turned down but she looked up at Oscar with big, shiny eyes that reflected the night sky behind her. “Well, We’ve had a busy few months now, haven’t we? With your coronation, and adjusting to life as royalty? And how I’ve been a little sick...” Oscar nodded slowly. “Yes...I suppose it has been quite busy, but it’s nothing we can’t handle together-- Right?” She reached over and gently grasped Catherine’s nervous hands, brushing over her knuckles. Catherine cleared her throat. “Well...It might just get a little more hectic.” Oscar tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean, dear?”  
A silence hung in the air as the crickets chirped in the dark night surrounding them. Hiding in the flowers, Catherine figures-- But there’s no time for that.  
“I’m pregnant.” She blurted out, looking Oscar right in the eyes just quick enough to see her beautiful blue eyes shrink against the whites. Completely stunned. Catherine continued, “...Well, you know how I’ve had terrible fits of vomiting recently, I thought it was just stress, but I figured I’d visit Sister Genevieve-- A very nice young nun is studying there, actually, she was the one to see me” Catherine’s nervous. She realizes that her mind’s going a million miles per hour and she’s a little off-topic. Her cheeks flush red. “And there’s no doubt about it. I’m pregnant. I-- We-- we’re going to have a baby.”  
Oscar fell back in her chair with a soft bleat.

 

**Chapter 1 Snapshot 2: That one scene at the end of Evangelion. You know the one**

Late morning at their old home- their real home, down in the red, with Maman and a packed house of familiar faces. Catherine and Oscar are sitting at the kitchen table, in their non-royalty clothes for the first time in a couple months. Everyone down here had gotten used to seeing royalty flitting about around Maman’s small abode, but after their marriage, and Oscar’s coronation...It’s just easier to travel without getting recognized. Oscar’s wearing some ridiculous hat and oversized glasses which she took off and put down in front of her. Catherine, on the other hand, wore a hood that made Maman wax nostalgic about another hooded queen that showed up on her doorstep one morning, very long ago.

“Move, move! Out of the way, you! My girls are here!” Maman called out from the living room, shoving aside poor Bruno, who was standing reading the newspaper and drinking a nice cup of tea. She hasn’t gotten to see her children in her own home in what felt like ages.  She was excited just from that, so Catherine and Oscar kind of dreaded telling her the big news. Maman pushed her way into the kitchen and sat down at their quiet little table. “So, what is so important that you’ve taken time out of your busy schedules to visit your humble old mother?” Maman remarked with a smirk. Catherine snickered, but Oscar grimaced guiltily. “It’s not--- It’s not like that...We-...”

Catherine held a hand up. “You know we would take time out of our busy schedules to see you any time, Maman. Provided we find a moment to do it...Honestly, I’m not sure how Michel and Sylvia managed!” Maman smiled. “So, you have no news for me? Nothing important? Just an early morning drop-by? Nothing that would need the others in our house to be away for?”

“Welllll…” They responded in unison. Oscar gulped, fidgeting with her hands nervously. “We do have...news. Good news! Or at least I think it’s good news-- It’s good news, isn’t it, Love?” Catherine nodded with a soft “Mm.” Her and Oscar looked at eachother and silently exchanged a nervous energy that made Maman quirk an eyebrow. “Oh, out with it, will you both?”

Catherine turned to Maman. “I’m pregnant.”

Maman was stunned in the same way Oscar was before, but for far less time. A big smile creeped up on her face and tears welled up in her eyes. Happy tears. “Congratulations!” She practically pounced over the table to grab the other two in her arms and pull them into a big hug. “Congratulations! Oh, Congratulations! This is wonderful! Truly wonderful!” She pulled away and moved over to the kitchenette. “I have a couple recipes that help with morning sickness...I wish I’d known sooner.” “Here, drink this, sweetheart.” “...and Oscar, I have a couple tips for you, too-” “I’m going to be a _Grandmère!”_

Not just Maman gets the news. Michel and Sylvia- “This is wonderful! Michel, this is--” He goes white as a sheet “...Michel?” Their daughters- Oscar’s little sisters- The twins, Rosie and Marie- were sitting beside their parents. “Papa!” Rosie shouted and tugged on Michel’s shirt, snapping him out of it. Marie turned to Catherine with a bright green frog plushie pulled to her chest. “What does...What does pragnat mean?” Catherine looked down and explained gently, “It means...It means Oscar and I are going to have a baby.” “YUCK!” Rosie called from behind. “Babies are gross. ‘Cept for animal babies...You guys should have a baby kitty!” Catherine chuckled. Oscar offered a joke, “I don’t think we get to choose what kind of baby we have, Little rose.” Rosie crossed her arms and pouted. Marie, now on her mother’s lap, asked what both of the new parents thought was a _very_ good question. “Are you going to lay an egg?” All the adults at the table laughed.

Later on into their discussion, Sylvia’s mouth twisted up in worry. “I don’t think either of you will have an issue, but...You know Michel and I had so much trouble with children…” Her arms tightened around Marie. She looked straight at Catherine. “And I know- I know your powers, and how they’ve…” She trailed off. “Just be careful, okay?” Catherine frowned, but “Okay”ed. That thought hadn’t even entered her mind. With all the pain she’s taken in to herself-- would that prove to be an issue?

After all the grandparents were notified, pretty much all of Thronum Mare knew. Before even making a formal statement. Their friends and extended family dropped in to congratulate them. Pedro-

“Congratulations!” Maurice- “I do hope they have your hair, Oscar” Luiza, now a little bit older- “That’s incredible! Congratulations, you two!” Magpie- “Already? That was quick.” The captain- “Alright, Don’t think this will mean either of you will get to slack on your duties!” Even a stranger on the street, stopping them on the street regardless of their impeccable disguises, handing Catherine a small bouquet of lillies with another congratulations. Gabby, in the fountain on the castle grounds-  “I’m just so happy! You two will- for sure- make the most beautiful pup! Oh, human pups are called babies, aren’t they?”

And finally...Clementine. A week later, through a letter from Eden, though somehow the news reached Clementine’s ears long before that. It helps to know many people who can fly. She wrote back, on a piece of parchment with pink ink that smelled like fresh rain, “Congratulations, though I feel like both of you have already heard that a million times already. I can’t imagine the kind of attention that you two must have gotten...What, with everything involving me, and the coronation, that unfortunate slip of the tongue of Oscar’s that made front page news. I’ve been thinking about names for the little tyke already. What about ‘Flamingo’? ‘Marshmallow’? ‘New Sofa Smell’. Think about it. ‘Lady New Sofa Smell Nabavi-Valois, Of Thronum Mare.’ Sofie for short.”

Catherine, upon recieving the letter, laughed so hard that it honestly made her consider naming her child “Flamingo”, if only for the sheer chaos it’d bring.

 

**Chapter 1 Snapshot 3: Hello, Claire**

 

Catherine was laid up in her bedroom. One she always thought was entirely too big. Soft surfaces and whispers still weren’t enough to stop their words from echoing. She was put on bedrest for the past two months of her term, and frankly, she’s sick of it. She’s sick in general. Sick of being sick. She’s sweaty, achy, and irritable all the time, and that’s not including all the times she’s vomited. Nurses and maids went in and out of the bedroom to take care of her, change her towels, check her vitals...And she was just sick of it! She silently wondered how others before her could ever deal with having a “royal baby”. The finish line’s in sight, at least. Her due date’s less than two weeks away and--

Catherine gasps as she felt a twinge, and a suspicious wet spot on the bed beneath her……

Uh-Oh.

 

Soon enough she’s being dragged off and laid in one of the baths, a big clawfoot tub in an all-white bathroom. ‘Oh No.’ Catherine thought to herself as she looked around the room. ‘That’s going to be a nightmare to clean up.’ She’s in water up to the middle of her stomach, discounting the rest of her that’s drenched in sweat, and she’s being instructed to breathe by a handful of nuns- midwives,catherine supposes. They’re being led by a woman a bit older than her, with high cheekbones under her facemask and habit. Her uniform had splashes of red, contrasted by the others who wore the classic black and white. Soon enough Oscar runs into the room, having hastily changed clothes, wearing a blue button-up half-tucked into brown pants, and a facemask, too. Catherine, between contractions, looks up at her wife and wonders why exactly they all need to wear facemasks. It’s not like she’s _contagious._

 

Catherine’s panting, with one hand squeezing the side of the tub nearly hard enough to break it, and the other hand squeezing Oscar’s hand nearly hard enough to break that, too. “You’re hurting me, Love” she makes the mistake of saying. Catherine snapped back, “Oh I’m sorry, I’M hurting YOU?” Oscar decided not to speak unless spoken to after that.

“Push!” The nun in red commanded. “Push!” It’s not a particularly long process, after the sixth or seventh push there’s...a cry. A beautiful, beautiful cry. “Congratulations, your graces, it’s a-- Oh.” The new parents panicked. “Oh?! What do you mean ‘Oh’?!” The nun in red shook her head. “My apologies. It’s a perfectly healthy baby girl.” She lifted up the baby and-- Oh. Oh Indeed. She’s got all ten fingers and ten toes, nothing’s wrong, but on top of her head she had a single curl of

Firey.

Red.

Hair.

Oh.

 

Soon enough she-- Catherine- the baby was taken away to make sure she’s perfectly healthy- Is returned to the royal bedchambers,, now with new sheets and blankets. She’s laid back down with Oscar at her side nursing a bruised hand. Oscar leans down and showers Catherine’s face with kisses. “My dear” kiss. “I am so proud of you. I can only imagine what you went through and” kiss. “I am so very proud of you.” Catherine leans her head up weakly and kisses back. “We- we never did decide on a name did we? What about…”

“Ahem.” a third voice joins, “I am glad to say that your daughter is perfectly healthy.” It’s the nun in red, without a facemask this time, looking very serious. She gently places the baby in Catherine’s arms, before stepping back and lingering for a bit with hands clasped. “Her internals are perfect. Heart is beating, Lungs are breathing...You’re very lucky, Your Majesties.” She smiles in a way that suggested that she didn’t smile very often, but still one that was very genuine. The new parents smiled back, and then smiled at the baby- their daughter. “ _Elle a l'air très claire.”_ The midwife added. _“She looks very bright.”_ Catherine threw her head back and laughed. “That’s it!” she called out, loud enough to echo in that big bedroom. “ _Claire._ ” She brought the baby up to her face and spoke in a hushed voice, “Hello, Claire.”


End file.
